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Heart tormented throughout the age
Seeing nothing but destruction
Cruelty the best of the worst
Scarred for life
By a mother's emotional abuse

Never feeling comfortable around men
Afraid of anything more indepth than ***
Finding a nonjudgemental man
Thinking to repairing the past
Unknowingly mimics the mother

Finally swept away off the feet
Married, optimistic of the future
A child born early
New mother now turns the page
Happy as can be

Hormones a woman's curse
Cause heartache and despair
Mixed with the abuse of the past
Trying to over come
Badly, wanting to be good

Years pass by like rain
Flooding the family as it grows
No desire felt, yet in love for sure
Lost, scared
Self preservation reigns high

Sins of the mother passed down
Sharp tongue, quick wit
Cutting deeply through the love
Wants despartely to want, need
Tries to hang on to give not take

Illness prevails
Striking down
Hormones and desire all put aside
Attempts to reach out
Just cannot

You stop trying and give up
It gets worse
Make it stop mommy
Don't leave Daddy
Tear paint the canvas

Have I been so cruel
Ungiving and cold
Cirumstances piling up
Body becoming older

Beggs and pleads to try to fix
Isn't just a cold hearted woman
A beautiful soul inside
Just needs nourishment
Don't turn away

Don't toss tthis lifeaway
Not into the trash
Try harder
Meet a quarter of the way
Whatever you decide

Please Don't  turn away
Written by Jennifer Humphrey all rights reserved
J Jul 2018
I wonder if the color green releases calm and renewal energies because it is the earth's carpet, magnetizing us down to earth.

I wonder if the color red wraps around passion and chaos because the blood in our veins rush evermore when we see something we love, and it rushes to our brain when our world turmoils.

I wonder if the color blue spreads hope for the sky as a crutch for those who have nowhere else to look but up to their god or to the formation of clouds that one cannot make sense of their cotton candy essence.

I wonder what color we are. What color does the earth reflect on us? Are we chameleons, morphing into different shades by the hour or are we permanent markers, bleeding deep? Maybe we are gray and receive color by what we surround ourselves with. That's how science works, right? A reflection of light in our retinas.

I am purple. There is a cloud of mystery and romanticism that shields me like a cloak, but my emotions run like rich velvet. Maybe one day I'll find a yellow who bursts rays of warmth. I think I would like to be with a yellow one day, the golden hour of colors.
Omnis Atrum Aug 2012
i swear tis dreadful my dear
to face ones greatest fear
to have nought and none to hold near
to lose control and let life's wheel steer,
i'll cry out, i swear, in dismay
if for one more fretful day
i hear not the words you say
yet doubt not my intent to stay,
only for your sweet words of peace
that so oft give my soul release
will make these worries cease
and take these fears from me,
they still tell me my dreams are untrue
that my smiles do not come from you
but if, only if, they knew
my desires they would not misconstrue,
so as this day comes to end
my mind to my heart i will send
and i'll see your face my friend
until waking from slumber once again.

with that distant look again overcoming my ability to conceal
all of the things that i try to pretend aren't really real,
trying to find the hope that i once help so close and dear
but i wake up to find myself alone with you no longer here.
i fall to my knees hollow and empty in both arms and soul
smiles have digressed to the bitter glares of old,
i try to capture the tears before they fall from my eyes
so that you cannot see all that i would hide and deny.
i have lost the will that once drove me to strive for more
and this failure has left me in a drunken heap upon the floor,
for that is the only warmth that makes its way into my core
and the fears go away so quickly when i can't remember anymore.
and one more drink i am sure could not hurt at all
until i stumble around lose my feet and start to fall,
i find myself without the strength or will to rise up once again
so i close my eyes and wait for the room's spinning to end.
and in this state i realize that i have not had a drink all night
but the alcohol content of life sometimes is too much to fight,
i am but a lightweight next to the thousand proof bottle of reality
and once again i have drank too much and it has overcome me.

you stand there wide eyed overcome by disbelief
that you find yourself in these situations once again
after your turmoils you will breathe a sigh of relief
and the birth of realization will start to slowly begin

i reach out for something you cannot grasp, believe in something you cannot understand, and long for something you do know know how to feel. it is beyond you. if only i would have known this sooner, i would not have wasted so much time trying to explain it to you.

i count the sleepless nights like some count sheep
it's because of these broken promises that i can't sleep,
this misinterpreted flawed logic that you want to keep
in hopes that eventually into my brain it will seep.

there are some that i gave all to that deserved nothing, when the one that i should have given my everything to is the only one that has really mattered all along. and now she is only in happy memories. the rest of you do not even come close to everything that she is...and i'm tired of trying to find someone who does. she has weighted my scales heavily against all of you, set the standard so high that none of you will ever to be able to tip the scales in your favor, but my soul will never be at rest until i find someone who can.

when you put as much energy into something as you possibly will be selective about where you should direct that energy. and sometimes you find that all of your energy was spent running down a dead-end alley. so you simply walk back to the road and remember to never deviate on that path ever again.

if you feel that you must love, then love with heart, soul, mind, and strength...without all of these your love is incomplete...and destined to fail.

to forget is to lose regret or to misinterpret the goals we set. to gain is to maintain without the possibility of losing it again. to remember is pointless once it is done.

that which you lack none can give you but yourself. there are none that can make you complete or make you feel whole, that is your task. it is not until you have mastered your own mind that you should search for someone to compliment the person that you have become.

your mind is your greatest tool, your thoughts your greatest weapon, your words are everyone else's greatest enemy, and unfortunately being closed minded is your best defense.

vague predictions are rarely untrue. but to see what happens exactly how it happens before it actually happens is a gift and a curse. it gives insight and knowledge beyond the realms of the senses, but if one would share such things with others they would be considered mad.

it is almost surprising how people are so kind and open to people they do not even know. a simple smile, meaningless conversation, or common courtesy shared with a being that has nothing in common with you except that you are both in a state of being referred to as life and are in the same place at the same time. it shows that people really are good at heart. but when you get close to some people they are corrupted by their own emotions, confused by the situation, or scared of what may come. it is not that these people are bad people or bad friends, they have just not yet come to terms with the fact that people can mean well and not expect anything in return. that people can care about them without any logic or reason behind it. when if they would only open their eyes they would see that there are people who would like to do nothing more than celebrate their oddities, their peculiarities, and their differences. the things that make them unique, the things that they would try to hide. there is good in everyone, some just hide it better than others.

in a conversation a friend told me that you can't just drop people out of your life, you can't just burn bridges, and you can't leave people behind so that you can become something greater. and we argued about this for a short while. but by the end of the conversation, after i had explained all of the circumstances and everything else was taken into account, this person looked me in the eyes and assured me that there was nothing else that i could possibly do. the sad thing was...i really didn't believe anything that i was saying, i was just saying it to make me feel better about what i was going to do. are people so eager to agree and fit in that their morals are thrown to the side? i wish i could say no.

i am not telling anyone the secrets of the universe. i am not some great thinker that tells people things that they would have never thought of. i just pay attention and make observations about the things that happen around me on a daily basis. i am not doing anything that most of you could not do. i'm just bored enough and have enough time to actually do it.

when the morning comes and this bliss ends none of the trivial problems that i worry myself with will be gone, the worries that burden my heart will still lay heavy on my being, and there will still be no way for me to do what i wish i could do. but if i can escape it for a few more hours, if i can keep it off of my mind for just a few seconds, then i will feel like i have accomplished something.

i have proven my abilities once again. and they wanted to know how i did what i did so easily, when they knew that they could not do the same even if they knew what i did. but it's really simple, you just have to look straight through people, past all of their fronts and all of the things that they want you to believe, straight through their eyes and into their soul. the body is just a shell to carry around the soul that is within it. once you learn to see through that shell and into the depths of a person's very being, then you will understand how i can do the things that i do.

my body betrays me. when people see me all they see is the shell. this big intimidating guy that seems to stand behind a clear wall of stone, untouchable. but if you only knew what is beyond the surface then you would see why this has all become so difficult for me.

it is better to say nothing when you mean everything than to say everything when you mean nothing.

is a person considered a success or a failure when they can have anything that anyone else in the world could ever want, but they cannot find the only thing that means more than the world to them?

if i could only open your eyes. enlighten your soul. so that you could see the things that i see. feel the things that i feel. then you would see that i am not the one whose thoughts are off target. but truth cannot be taught or learned. it can only be known by those that have found it on their own.

what i have done was no easy feat. it has troubled me greatly but i know that it was the right thing to do. not for myself, but for all concerned. and i now have happiness back in my grasp. i just have to tighten my clinch and pull it closer to my heart. because a person can cry until they drown in their own tears and no one will ever notice, and it will not make them feel better nor will it fix any of the problems. but once they take control of a situation and dispose of the cause of it then the changes themselves will make a world of difference.

i would say i love you more often, but it is often mistaken as a passinng sentiment. because most people do not truly understand what love is. but just as it would make no sense to give a painting to a blind person, or to play a song to those who could not hear it; it is just as senseless to give love to those who do not know how to feel it.

i almost feel as if i should apologize at my inability to show mercy to the ignorant, but i cannot convince myself that they deserve even that much.

sometimes i wonder what it is like to be one of those people that life just leaves behind. the ones that can't keep up. the ones that have gone as far as their potential can carry them. the ones that no amount of power or influence can push them any further. and then i smile, because i know that i will only ever wonder about this.

only fools declare that beauty is only skin deep. because beauty never truly begins until you get past the surface. to the very depths of a person's being. but it is kind of hypocritical for me to say this, because my standards are so high that they get mistaken for me being shallow all the time.

was it hope or the cause that was lost?

the world will never be short of actresses. pulling you into the story, stirring your emotions with their always interesting dialog, and making it so interesting that you can't look away for a single moment. and then one day you wake up and realize that it is not a play at all, it is your life.

i pray that one day that i find the one person that makes everything that's happened so far worth while. i pray that one day i will find love. that one day i will find the one that deserves everything that i want to give someone. one day...very far away. because right now i do not even want to entertain the idea. i'm so sick of love. sick of seeing it. sick of believing in it. sick of it evading me on every corner. so at this point in my life i would just like to say "******* love", i'm better off without you anyways.

all of our fates are the same. death is inevitable. but is a great person one that ignores their fate and enjoys life for what it is, or one that lives day by day evading their fate for as long as possible?

there are questions that we all have in life. and sometimes the answers that we find to those questions do not give us the results that we expected. but i would like to say that the answers that we find are never incorrect, but some of the questions that we try to answer are trick questions and should be thrown out.

never accept what anyone else declares as reality. the only person that you can truly trust in this world is yourself. people try to make this world into something that makes them happy. and as much as this may seem absurd, you should try it for yourself. happiness is nothing but a perception of circumstances. so either change your circumstances or change your perception and you will be the happiest person in the world.

the person that i thought i cared about the most. the one that i could have given the world to. the one that i thought i meant something to. the one that i thought could do no wrong. what foolish thoughts i think. and then i did something that hurt me more than i thought it would, but it hurt less that to keep the foolish thoughts going. to pretend that i didn't feel something that i did. sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is what they really want you to do, so you let them go. and in doing so i lost a dear friend, someone that i did not realize i would miss so much. but i know that i cannot and should not try to undo it now. because some people you just can't help but fall for. and there is nothing you can do for someone that does not want your help.

i am nothing. yet, i am everything. you mean nothing, yet you mean everything. hope is nothing, yet it is all that we have. love is nothing, yet it is all that we look for. it is the things that are intangible that mean the most, yet from the outside they seem so insignificant. so meaningless.

am i nothing but a beast? my soul longs to break free but my mind restrains it. i long for freedom yet my body restrains me. lacking these restraints i truly would be nothing but a beast. but sometimes i think that the beasts are better off than i, because they follow what they know they have to do without any kind of thought or restraint.

if i had the opportunity to apologize a million times i don't think i could bring myself to do it. even knowing that you deserve it. because i have deceived myslef into thinking that i was right. and i know no other way to escape what i know is sure to come when this catches up to me.

some things you do not realize until just before death. you don't realize how much everyone that is close to you means. how much everything you think is important isn't worth anything. that the only things that really matter are what you believe, the people you love, and happiness. so, if i can realize that much now, before death pays me too much attention, then i think that my life could be the way it was meant to be instead of what it has become.

she is everything that no one can understand. could i really be the only one? the only one that sees everything that she is, the beautiful person that she is. people are sick. they call something that is beautiful wrong, just because they do not understand it. they run from something and do not realize what it is that they are losing. i would give anything to be in his shoes, i would do anything to be able to take away her pain. i would cry her tears for her if it would make her happy. but this sounds like insanity. this world knows nothing of sacrifice unless they are sacrificing someone else so that they can get what they want.

breath in. sigh. relax. release. burdens weighing heavy. soul is a stone. pulling me deeper and deeper into the abyss. the heat is spreading. from my heart out to my fingertips. circulating. it burns. all is numb. the fire of my heart and cold of my soul have nullified each other. a void is created. to erase the memories. to forget the pain. the sorrow. the loneliness. and then i am happy. because i can't remember you. because i forget me. everything fades away. meditation is bliss.

sometimes these rhymes are contrived because of lust for the ones i despise. why would someone be so attracted to the things that leave them so distracted? but the melody plays on and i know that nothing could be wrong because your singing all the words to my song. and your singing voice is so beautiful. or is it the tone and the words behind it?

integrate corruption into perfection because of a lack of reason not to. why not just leave it as it was before it was what you wanted it to be? you draw my curiosity. like a disaster. i know it's horrible but i just can't look away.

Though i can't hear her coming i know she's on her way
though she never stays for long i love her while she stays,
no one can be quite like her as hard as they should try
and when she offers herself to me i never can deny.
She creeps in from outside to hold me while i sleep
and never will she whisper the secrets that we keep,
though many fools dislike her, i'll keep her as my friend
and fall fast asleep with Silence in my arms again.

let the cold winds blow the silence away
let the rain drops fall and accumulate,
let the sun subside beneath the horizon line
M Solav Jul 2019
We live on the ripples of a beating heart
Sailing wide across a great black sea
Each pulses like falling raindrops
As we drift on the surface of destiny

We know the struggles and the storms to come
Foundations the turmoils of passing winds
Are scattering on our way towards the sun
Were raised by none but the breathe of our will

We become landscapes the further we are drawn
Cold mountains, dense forests, oceans and such,
On our carved existence all promise to be found
As we roam from mood to mood and thought to thought

We understand at last what the touch reconciles
When we start to realize what we had always known
That the world was always ours, and it dawns on our mind
That the rainfall had stopped while we’d landed home
Written in June 2019 - for an exhibition in Peking.

— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Engulfed by light /
eyes open wide/
my pupil turns white/
  it’s nothing to stand in the impenetrable heat. /
The sun stands before you/
with all of your turmoils  /
your mind is my glory hole !/
The powerful gust from a huge fan i trust/
was disguised as an infinite beam as it lifts me/
dematerialize the old grains of me/
The wind spreads her love unconditionally
what morals are you after?
In the face of sadism
the expression of laughter.
svdgrl May 2014
I heard a woman singing in the car,
about being reborn as a peacock for Krishna
so that she could sit in beautiful penance for him.
While watching whizzing morning work trucks,
and beat-up corollas and motion blur,
I thought of you in the stillness of sleep.

If I were to be reborn I'd like to be a bird as well
so that I could provide the down in your pillow,
and be cushion to your carousel crown
But then I would be lonely when you go to work.

If I were to be reborn, I'd like to be your sunglasses,
so that I could protect your squinting eyes,
and live by your lushest lashes.
But then you'd lock me away in a case, and I won't be able to see you.

If I were to be reborn, I'd be a bracelet made of magic beads,
so that I could promise health around your often pained wrists,
and fix the freedom in your fiery fingers.
But then you'll probably lose me, or unstring me accidentally with time.

If I were to be reborn, I'd like to be your favorite puppy,
so that I could pacify your inner turmoils.
and be held by your human hands.
But then you'll possibly outlive me, and I wish to watch you grow.

If I were to be reborn, I'd be lonely, locked away, left, lost, and outlived-
so I'd rather stay in this life with all of my privileges
of providing, protecting, promising and pacifying
as your lucky lover.
Ayeshah Mar 2010
He Fights to be the Provider,
Hiding the Pain he Sometimes feels,
Trying to be your Healer,When you both have to seal -Deals ...
In life that give way to many...
Mistakes, He lifts you up when your feeling down,
Holding all he feels deep, Down,
Worries about what you don't have while trying
to make you Laugh,
Sometimes Sitting  up, Late at night thinking
of another way to give everything
Helping you
Through the old wounds of pain caused by another Mans
Abuse,un truths or lies you never forgave,
Taking blame even thou its not in him to hurt
this presious women,
To him You are everything,
Asking Nothing of himself,
When your in pain he leands the help,
taking all your worries away
Pain Skecthed on his face,
You dont Notice, your too stuck in your own
Turmoils, You dont think..., What dose he need,
A Mans Struggles
Is beyound us,We only know what we WANT, As Women
Some of Us don't trust enough or care long as we
Get OUR share..,
We aruge with him,
Fight and fuss,
Making it harder on him to just be a Man
His Struggles,
Not to mention The Father or daddy to some of our kids,
Even when their not even his,We burend you with our self
conclusions and confusions, Make you Pay Everyday
for something you didnt do or Never Could..
Mistreatment is evident as
We give to him
Our own Abuse ...Words Hurt him too,
Even thou he Holds it ALL in
As Girls, Ladies and Women,We concurred you,
With looks of our own Deceptions and lie to get you in our web,
Black Widows Grasping at you, laying you on the plater not really
knowing what "lies" Ahead,
Not All Women but Many of THEM...,
Taking him from Man to the Beast paying for
The ******* by other old peeps family
or the Other Ex's
Not leaving Room for him to be Next,
Or The Best...,
**** His Struggles and let him deal with mines,
Let him see me as I want him to,
his girl we say, His Lady, His wife,
His Baby Momma
With all the strife and Drama,
Causing him to be Not Man but less of Him,
Make him the Next Abuser,
No its not Right but
hey Thats life,
or THE Way you want it to be..
You wanted more of his time,
stopped him from making a Dime or paper,
To Recreate him
Not in God's Image but as You want it..,
Women Listen...
Giving all he can, Working Paying bills..,
In the street or 9to 5 ...,
Doing anything to let You get by,
Yeah he gets a little satisfaction
from all that he's done to just put
that Smile on your face ...,
See his kids say
Hey my Daddys great,
But Given His Struggles His way of doing things..,
its time to sit and think
what it means to be a MAN,  Be Men....,
A Mans Struggle's
We dont talk much about...,ONLY what he do "WRONG"
or what he's NOT willing to Do for you,
You Complain
About what's NOT Given  or  
NOT done (done/doing RIGHT) whats not yours
or what He DONE gone in did AGAIN & AGAIN...
This Song Continues,
And now hes got your Tune Stuck in his Head,
Negatives not Words of Encouragement,
NO  Praises and Thanks for helping Rasie these bad as kids ...,
Putting food and gifts & Roof over ya Heads,
Saving up, time to spend and taking work off...not that its a cost
YOUR willing to make
( cuz Some just Aren't Going to Take it/US Women)
or to even say THANKS,
Some Of us Women just dont Get it,
Can't Say all Women but
I know Plenty of THEM,
Not willing to take his place on any given DAY...
Making him..,
Not a man but worse than sin, taking away his "self"
Esteem and the MAN you ONCE Fell in love with,
is No longer him,
Changing him Again til he's unreal...
Saying "I do" just to Get his Dibbs,
Saying "I love you" just to pay a bill,
to do what the Ex's did to you...,
Love he's giving..,
You as a women and for
giving the realationship a chance,
Wow to just be a ma!,
I  Apologies if this Was ever me
(I bet I did it too acted petty and lost a good Man,)
To all you Wonderful MEN...I say AGAIN TY...
I know some of the ****
your in and I feel your pain at times Too,EVEN
if I don't ALWAY Understand You,
Even when I'm Yappying my Mouth...,
Talking a bunch of ****,
I give Thanks to you,
all you men For DEALING with it!
Hench I dedicate this
to You Men
Cuz I can only Guess About.....
Always Me Ayeshah
Copyright © Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
Jake Stewart Jan 2013
From day to day I rest my mind,
from the daily turmoils that lay hidden inside.

For how has it become of our nation's taboo,
to sit down all day like social-media infected baboons?
You spoke adamantly of gentle courage
     and sharing spring's flourished nectar,
the swooning rhythm of swaying trees
   and the easeful breezes that flow
     'tween endearment's sensibilities,
misty moonbows 'neath dusk's stormy skies
     lavender sunsets midst rosy horizons,
affectation surging amid life's turmoils
     wallowing in self indulgence &
the harmony of olive branch surrender
    and thrumming heart strings of patience,
it was then I comprehended, darkness doesn't
   last a lifetime when lit by love's fortitude
Ashleigh Kelco Oct 2012
You live at the bottom of a bottle,
your life supply not the air you breathe,
but the drugs you ingest.
The pills, the powders,
trapping you in a permanent haze.
You're stuck.
The alcohol your only friend.
When does it stop?
Is the pain too steep?
Agony seeps into your veins.
Malicious intent creeping through your daily turmoils.
Your future is bleak.
Inner pain ripping you to shreds.
You self medicate, but it'll never stop.
There is only one way out.
It was all too much.
Another life lost to the monsters in the closet.
Ellyse Amelia Oct 2011
.to have gained so much through a process of loss is a meandering truth to my life. the relationships i build, manufacture..become processed. an unreal version of the way life was supposed to be. for me anyways. where has the real "grit" gone to. the granules of momentum in mind and heart. to be willing to overcome the self pity, to go the distance, to be you. i look around, peer into the eyes of others and see a smog. a stream of tar. thick with loathing and disdain. for what reason do we allow ourselves to become these wandering entities? we do not deserve this life, this body, this chance if we are going to let it become stagnant, flat, static. i much rather let reclusive acts take me away, than to be consumed in the negativity, the natural downturn. don't grasp onto the cruel aspects of life, live through them and continue by appreciating the grace that has been given to you through such turmoils. love whom you choose to love with all of your sacred heart. you have an endless pit of this emotion as long as you are strong enough to witness the miracle of forgiveness. be one with you. be you. dont leave pieces of you lying about. you are the morning the after noon, the evening and the night. the blossoming sun, and the face in the moon. you are eternity if you wish upon it. wish.
What mists are these

That grow heavy in the palm

Making bruises weep

These mists that place themselves

By treaty or inheritance

With such ferocity

Embalm the soul with tears

Announcing their pleasure

To be resurrected

These mists that represent a tragedy

An imagination that beholds a bleeding

Yes, a bleeding from mine eyes

A conflagration of blood

That flares a collaboration of turmoils

With effortless deployment in the mind

Erratically as if impediment does not impose

Itself upon their mortal breach

An unresponsive pace that energizes

The tragedy of my great lament
barnoahMike Apr 2011
No body knows the Trouble I;ve Seen~Except my Aunt Maude and the Mowin machine..  No body knows the garbage I've tossed~Except for that stray dog~who by now Must be lost...  No body knows the Trash I've tripped over~Except for that Yellow Horse that eats all the clover...  No body know the Turmoils and Bruises~Except for those folks who take Long cruises...  No body knows the Tormenting stress~Except for Garden hoses and the guy doing the Bench Press...   No body knows the Aggravation I've got stored~ Except  for a Majesty sitting on His Throne...   No body knows the Deceit that I've been dealt~Except for that guy who always wears the Bright Blue belt...   No body knows that awful dog Grover~Except the Fat Lady who sings ,When's it's all over...   No body knows what Sloppy Joe Means~Except for the people who wear Hand-me-down Jeans...   No body knows what it's like to feel Really  Blue~Except for the people who try to make friends with fast drying Glue...   No body knows where all these Roads might lead ~Except for those who know what it's like to be on your knees...    "NO BODY KNOW THE TROUBLE I'VE SEEN ! !
Copyright 2011    barnoahMike           Mike Ham
Oh, yes, he is immortal.
Immortal in his youthfulness indeed!
He shall age and grow but never change;
he shall wane and wither just in pain!
Just like a stubborn day rainfall-
ah! which remains a thick stifling veil
to our young sky, and its starlights-
like a loyal fence and its old window;
sitting and hoping that endings shall never show
Yes, he shall but still look the same tomorrow.

Ah! In his silliness and bold playfulness,
he sometimes makes fun of his own madness,
with a conscience that somehow be rapid
and cheerful smiles so genuine and sweet.
Like a miracle in one dull puppet show
He canst list five jokes in a row!
But a certain poison is in his blood;
and unreachable thoughts forever colour his heart.
His youthful lips are full of secret tales;
and his white skin can at times be pale.
His stories are songs we've never sung
and his breaths are simply words to my poetic lungs.
With daring steps that this earth never fails
into the moors every morning he sails.
Once I found him behind the walls
among the long corridor of my halls.
With lightness he sounded plain but sure
Yet the cold outside made him obscure;
his purity was like a shadow of lightning
so calm but innocent and bewitching.
But as soon as gales wafted through the grass
He would once again; flock away into its mass.
Glee, glee, was what then astonished my poetry;
with tears and feelings that might have lit-
o, immortal man, I have only words to play with!

And ah! How once I startled him by my lover's name;
which he enquired more without any shame.
But envious was my heart's flame-
and delight was sadly never there to tame.
I ran, and ran away-without staring back at him,
no matter how absurd it'ght hath seemed!
With turmoils that were inside of me-
I clouded his picture once more,
stiffened by cries, but hated by my own delight-
scarred by lies, and loathed by very fright-
but now and then he would spring back into my steps,
demanding me to give what had been said away,
but I sped and hurried 'till he no more tapped,
and was turned aback and into his own day.
O, immortal man, please just forgive-o forgive me,
for I shalt have no more courage to face thee.

And lust, and love are but my forbidden triumph
Which he can only be see within my poems.
With his hands that shall stay awake forever-
and never age behind eternal rains and thunder;
to every single day he shall wake gladly in wonder.
Gazing through his very own unnatural universe
with holy regrets but intense admiration
But sadly his life might never be my verse;
neither his charms ever be my wifely laudation.
The fate of his might just not be my course;
and as how my being; is not his envied incarnation.

But blessings be with him, whoever's precious treasure
and be pains his heart shalt never endure.
O, immortal man, our paths are one, but never meet;
and forever are just enemies like coldness is to heat.
Again whenst I am to die I shalt remember thee;
for being more awesome than even the lake
and more delightful than any words canst take.
Ah! And thy silliness is one that makes thee so special
and even lighter than letters that hide behind the wall.
How thou would be one of my firsts to call!
Just like how thou art always immortal;
as thy portrait is eternally young and genial;
from which my pondering eyes shall never stir;
as whispers my human heart forever longs to hear.
I get hurt I don't mind.                       She gets hurt I don't care,
     You get hurt I worry a lot a lot
         Because I care,
      I never want to see you hurt,
   From all her drama and turmoils,
You still don't realise that its me who

      She's driven you through hell,
        Some little publicity and all.
   Silly little drama that could have pushed me way but still I stood with  
             My sobering heart
        Waiting for my chance to  
             You after her dread
  And heal your wounds from her
          Sharp swords.                               

It is my endless love that makes me
Yet I don't mind that you are never
             Going to love me.
John B Jul 2014
Dabbling in daunting errant

Walks the line of sane and saint

Map's of mice and men immortal

"turmoils end or endless toil?"

Journey's end or genocide.....
"More meat for the grinder!"

a description for one of my retro alts figured id post it...
pushthepulldoor Nov 2015
For the first time
In several months
I have felt an emotion
That isn't resent
For another human being.
I am thinking of one of
My truest friends.
One of my main confidants
In all of life's turmoils.
And this emotion is sad.
I am sad because she truly
Believes that her path is set,
That this is the only way.
She is self loathing and she is sad.
She is brave above all else
But she is also a coward.
I wish more then anything
For her safety
In these approaching times.
They will not be easy
For anyone.
healthy relationships can never be developed overnight. Conscious efforts, thoughtful gestures, quality time and sacrifices are the keys to become a healthy couple. Developing strong relation with your partner demands effort and time. And to make your relation everlasting, a consistent positive approach is a must.
Healthy couples always keep a positive approach towards their relation with each other. Healthy couples build their relationship with everyday efforts. They agree to the fact that relationships need regular nurturing.
At times we get caught in the negative spur of everyday life. We are having problems at job, finances are failing, kids are sick, arguments with colleagues and many such turmoils of daily life influence our emotions and ultimately our relationships.
Healthy couples always focus on the positive qualities of the partner in rough times. Whenever you are frustrated, make a conscious effort to focus on the things you admire and appreciate about your spouse.
Rettrahk Oct 2013
Come and tell, what do you fear?
The end is indecisive, trapped between now and coming;
But let's see it close, it leers at you, we want to hear.
What do you fear?

A man's rise, we see; the incineration of stagnant fears,
the will to understand what was once to hate.
A long path remains, but we see a man's rise, near.
So what do you fear?

Do you despise the bonds that keep you strong,
do you loathe the lives you must forgive?
Do you feel alone amongst the lovers, who show you how to live?
Can you speak, fool, can you speak your mind?
Do the shadows of time deceive you, as they have done every time?
Do you dread the betrayals following to your pyre?
Tell us, why do you cower?

Do you deserve the warmth, the conditional unconditional?
Do you feel pity for those who see not your visage beneath the mask?
Your treachery in friendship,
Your misogyny in love,
Your refusal to see answers to the turmoils and turbulence, to accept, to ask?

Do you fear that you'll hurt them,
and they won't understand?
Do you fear your solitude falling through like sand?
They see your isolation, they pity, they help;
they know not the darkness you call home yourself.
You love them, you cherish, you help, and you leave;
you know not of the ashes smouldering in your wake.
The scars dealt by your denials, too deep to conceive.
The hands that remain, you stay too weak to take;
The ones you choose to spurn - aye, yet another mistake.
You embrace the destiny of a lonely fire, with no warm breath to keep you near;
You've fought to love the isolation, so tell us,
Is this what you fear?
The wind rustling the leaves
And the crickets playing a song
brings peace to my ears
it's tranquility soothes my soul

It takes me away
to a faraway place
where the time does not fly
and stress is non existent

a place that is seldom traveled to
for the turmoils of life
make us forget about
finer aspects

so just sit back
and enjoy nature
the sounds and sights
and the way it surrounds you

because the stress will subside
and the peace will overcome
if you just breathe in the air
and let it take control
Abhisumat Singh Jul 2017 the sun just went for his nap, I woke up disturbed; in the middle of turmoils, on the edge of disasters.........
Even though I wanted to, I couldn't sleep; I couldn't cry out for company, for I had known long back that my words were weak...

There was some sleep in my eyes, some emptiness in my heart, and hunger in my soul...
The situation here was chaotic, people killing each other for the sake of some long lost freedom...

I wish I could turn back the clock,
and bring the wheels of time to a stop.
But time is obnoxious; then human lust for power,
and some frivolous ideologies about freedom,
make existence even more dangerous...

And when hope runs out, we become merely living dead creatures.... And such had the conditions worsened in this area, that all was lost...

Each night I slept without a single hope of seeing tomorrow's sunshine...
Each time I went out, I filled myself with the sight of my beloved ones, as if it is the final meeting with them...

So I couldn't find much difference between today and the other days....It seems like all was imprinted on me;
My birth, which brought me here;
My journey, which was neither much in favor,
nor much against my stable, yet conflicting mind;
and My end, which was too stubborn to accept me....

I was neglected by everyone, from everyone, and that's what solidified me...
                    "I hid my pains even from myself,
                     I revealed my pains only to myself..."

I was unaware of what I was headed to,
or whether I'd make it or not....that was unacceptable to all, I was unacceptable to all....
                   "My days are keeping on getting bad
                    My nights  are keeping on getting worst,
                    I don't know the truths, just I guess I'm thirsty,
                    But unaware of what would quench my thirst..."

This area is a battlefield,
and my battle here is with the guerrilla force,
my battle here is with the terrorists....
~a day in Jammu and Kashmir
~14 June'17 (17:00-17:07)
( I'm not a fighter, but on seeing the news today, I felt so... Did you also feel the same?)
Madison Brewer Sep 2012
it is said
she should be dead.
Her trials and turmoils engulfed the strength
beneath her thick, pallid skin.
Her hair frayed to puffy lengths of dried rope.
Her eyes seeking fruitlessly behind and beneath their
center of focus.
The throat a collapsed mine shaft, the men
who once labored in hopes for the reward of her ore
trapped within.

So dismayed, so drained, so damaged.
So frail in her failing strength that love herself would love her.

Near to bursting or imploding,
the skin stretches and hangs,
undulating in its near-death tug-of-war.
Her prisoners gasp for air, the canaries,
sickened and grayed by ash.

So far gone that love herself would love her.

Chill electronics

Fervours me forth

From the frost mornings
Over crushed relations
Over the lost margins

Across the horisons
Ending heated desserts

Alienated from lonsome cries
We travel on the cloud called ninth

Of a everydays man turmoils
Turning into naught

Becoming a hoop
Around allured
Swell membrane

Top to bottom
Willing to


Works with

the lucrative


My elation
Our abdomination
Each pace on the drum

Is  a hollow awareness

Is  a primal bite

Into a predestined

Prerogative ~ the
Love's ethnicity

Till ambushed silk

Start to jingle

Floral essences



Dark curls

Azam Magnetic Magma

Charming one thousand
And one
Free from misery
Mystery Nights



Ambiental Ali

Opened space


Sounds Alluring Affirmity

The woman's
Darkling alto
Swims into me

Dear saphir's lean
Permeates into me


—And then I realize I’ve been breathing in through a cigarette.
Like again before, the violence of reality, its press of revelation.
Rush to write before it fades.


My Muscles could be putty (non anent my lungs
to soot); another year of breath and fight past,
another year to revisit me, its Tocks, it’s to
“Keep lithe to be left living after its descent.”
*******, I’ve been saying that for years,
—now that I’m older—*******,
I’m talking about every kiss I’ve forgotten,
that is, everything we lose on way to Adulthood.
It’s unique, the imago state; most betokened of
His image, right? We are social creatures, too.
This year descends with the sand-bag weighting of
its guests, demons, its music and oxford commas.
And like every student here, inches of brick between
their sod-sleeping heads—I’m getting puttied muscles.
Grandfather clocks could only measure the pace
of time dripping from filter to lip right now.


So, out with it! Outwith disclaim and excuse!
Did these calendars and turmoils bide
inside, waiting? And I carried on dumb?
No, I couldn’t face it. To have any brag
or claim on consciousness you couldn’t.
And brag is the stuff of home and placement.
Too, I felt placed, and set, and spoilt, like
a full-soled step was took each step.
And then the rain came Sunday,
I knew a full periphery again, all that;
And now the center, too.


Berthed I become as I imagine the sky cloud.
Fixin’ to rain war and revelation.
This earth is a battlement now, I’ll fight.
The rolled cigarette, violent reality,
sweetly slipped into my mouth.
I never want to sound conclusive
(assertions, pretensions): keep repeating:
I’m just a sensitive thinker.
No better than like a decade’s
worth of culture, every conclusion
becomes irrelevant and useless
like an old law. An old decade
is entirely the footrest of the new,
and just as sturdy as He makes it.


I never understood the value of a dollar
‘till inside a tower over the campus
I tasted the thousand-dollar crime
of Security & Maintenance for climbing
a building. Tuition’s, now, an inkwell;
($)30,000 unmarked, illiterate words
and too much say with one bottle.
Same, too, with one purchase.
But still the shame of confusion
is an education in and of itself.
Confusion as useless as the future
and old criminals acquitted.

Take on another [name], any other,
so that God can call out to you
in the night.
Well, I’m learning.
between this poems…[sic]
I’ve learned that names are your own,
so name the un-cut, -construed past
and all it is you, for safe-keep, see.
I’ve learned that a capitonym
is God by any other name :
Hope, Love-lorn, Terror.

Monistically, I’ve learned there is only
us, the namers, for so our charge was:
whatever the man called each living
creature, that was its name.
that’s gotten us a lot of places,
i.e. hubris, tragedy, undoing.
But it’s its very syllables that undo.
So whisper. Snarl if needed. But
tack that trouble to tree and let it bleed.
This is your deer, your grace and past.
Yes, rotting there is your former muscle
and ideals, all prelude to this very moment.
Just as real and violent as when alive,
yourself, and yet confrontable,



Ellyse Amelia Oct 2011
i had begun this story a millenia ago.

the novels so defined that even diamonds could not shape its edges any further.

mindset of winders worries,

and a heart that builds monuments upon itself.

to the ages of timber i have rested,

within the cinder of burial grounds we have fallen before.

to see the sight of death and life in so many contorting angles is to breathe the cornel from beneath the husk.

we all love,

though to love the way that we have been gifted may also become our curse.

to house the hearts of thousands within your own may prove to become infertile with each task you have peered upon.

the turmoils of hidden dreams and lusts of past lovers proves to be less than static.

white noise of saphire breezes brings forth the shadows of time.

to here i rest my soul,

to these blades i lay my being.

the smell of memories can hinder the scent of the now.

appreciate those futile moments,

the frivelous bounty of desire.

love the sound of her voice as it carries through the sails of premonition,

steer the vessel of the body within the revines of her eyes.

to you i share the utmost calibration of this life,

and the life you lead will be in the steps i have previously taken.

i have sprinkled you across the ripples of the Chesapeake,

and whispered the hynm we both hummed on those streets.

your sun shone upon me this day,

and now, my sun shall shine on me in the morrow.
JL Nov 2013
"left me in the dust"--I've become dust literally
and my legs now melt like lipstick left too long in the open sun.
pungent words, medication--morph into heat waves, brilliant intensity.
red-violet, gamma magnified--I swallow them whole like you swallowed me.
my spirit will crawl inside you through the holes in your soiled skin
and I'll make you breathe me in
like winter smoke, a gray cloud
of inconveniences and memories better forgotten,
to remind you of the burdens of love and life
the turmoils of entanglement, the sacrifice of my energy
wasted on the feeble candle of your inner light
and the insignificance of adolescent love.
Shibu Varkey Feb 2017
That elusive thought
Danced merrily away
Into the recesses of its play

Mocking me with its glee
Prancing away without regret
Giving me no reprieve and stay

Soul searing, mind wearing
As my mind meanders
And limps through the fray

Across landscaped extravaganza
And deep inner turmoils
The demons do come up to prey

I plod on undeterred in my path
That wayward thought demon
I encounter, confront and slay!!
K Balachandran Mar 2016
I am your favorite fruit,
from the tree, this morning
you've freshly plucked
with a visible delight,
driven by an avid desire
that moved your dust coverd
pleasure seeker part
still kept alive, astonishingly
though you are no more
that young adventurer
once  you enjoyed being,
and have turmoils to handle.
You kept me safe in the
favorite nook of  your kitchen
not before caressing a bit
feeling my texture and
inhaling elating  fragrance.
you wanted to sit and eat this fruit
you did covet, so much when
you are free from daily grind.

But it's already sunset,darkness creeps,
there is no chance of a respite
for you, you easily forget
that there is no tomorrow,
perhaps you keep the thought
away,though you know
the things work out only today
as you want it, but can't help.

But as a woman of many parts
you may think it doesn't matter
you can throw the fruit out
before the night advances
hissing through your teeth
"Oh! it's gone to rot too soon"

I would still exist in the neuron
of your deeper brain, a sweet wish
unfulfilled, a little  eclipse in your
inner sky of many bright suns,
a neuron twitches continuously
independently, breaking the tune,
but yes, the world exists for both
it's sweet and bitter disappointments too.
And it necessitates taking life after life
to fulfill such small desires
and clean up, smile with contentment.
Sean Fitzpatrick Nov 2018
and all her fellows
run the scene below,
And by their shadows
convince ourselves
of string-ties up above.

A gangly play
where draw the curtains
sit the watchful Crowd-
a flock of birds
in tiny hats
attend to

And up above
in dark night Sky
spins an earthly globe,
Whose little turmoils
bubble over
to no particular song.
Elizabeth Thorn Mar 2013
It is in night
When I have my best ideas
My most heart-staking, wretched, borderline genius thoughts

It is in night
When I take my most daring, soul-clenching, emotion-wrecked actions
And ignore the bloodied face of my consequences

It is in night
When my inner beasts are allowed free from their cages
When my inner turmoils break forth and take out their wrath

It is in night
When I must face every mistake that is claimed as my own
Every outcome, every tear shed, every heart broken

It is in night
When grace and grandeur take on new meaning
And beauty reaps what is due

It is in night
When we find our true selves
Neither good nor bad
Simply human

It is in night
When all we seek of life
Is open for the taking
If only they would stop putting us to sleep....
Yacov Mitchenko Sep 2019
He had returned to Hongseong, still robust,
he had returned to care for his ailing brother,
and he walked up the strand of grey
toward Hongju High School, the soccer field
stubbled-green, to his left, still much the same.
2070? Was it 2070 already? Students streaming out
wore similar uniforms, students fresh
as the summer wind expressing a highway
of floating dandelion seeds. His wife passed away
two years before and his two sons worked abroad,
phoning twice, maybe three times a year.
There'd been no explosions, no grand griefs for years.
It had been a convenient marriage, quiet tenderness
blanketing husband and wife now and again,
with Chuseok coming around every year,
with outings and road trips punctuating every year,
with family life, its turmoils, laughter, keeping up
appearances now bubbling forth as so many dreams...

And now he was here, by the soccer field, students
streaming by... He recalled himself, his friends
running in the field, himself swept up in anticipation,
kicking the ball within the thrall of anticipation...
He was going to make a mark in his field
and the school would remember he once studied here.
He'd travel worldwide, invited to conferences,
invited to deliver lectures throughout all of Europe,
and maybe he'd settle in America.
The old man walked on, passed the soccer field, toward
the pink-petalled tree that he hoped was there,
his hope fulfilled. The space underneath flared
with the memory of her whom he loved,
loved well after circumstances
had parted them cities away.

And the school hallways - how they glowed with her image...
How deliciously sad her image stood alone...
How strange it seemed he then anticipated
finer, fiercer loves than his pretty stepping stone.
How many sleepless nights had he slogged it out,
the examinations ******* him...
How many were the anxieties, worries
pressing upon him...
Yet how strangely faint
and shadowy the memory had become -
and almost quaint.
Even his wife's youthful image, her imagined glow,
the glow of his feelings then, had become
a faded cloth,
his quarrels with his two sons, at times explosive,
more faded patterns on the cloth...

Yet what had moved him here - what intimation
had been stirred in the soccer field's grass,
in the tree's pink petals? What was it about her,
his first flame evoking the marriage
of sadness and delight that eluded the blur?
Though the desks were different, though the hallway walls
and classrooms had different colors sewn,
a different melody rippling from a xylophone,
something of hers remained, a freshness
encompassing the pink petals, field's green,
a freshness whose face spoke of what's serene.
When he held her hand or ran in the field,
though his thoughts had sometimes taken him far afield,
few habits had hardened. He was still a soul
that like the wind passing through the grass and tree
was simply itself, not committed to a goal,
though the mind was a weaver of countless themes,
his mind prone to a rainbow of dreams.
She had moved him deeply: when they were together,
being was strung to being - being glowed -
youthful vigor, moments savored, possibility
shimmering, woven wonderfully together...

Twilight was coming on, spreading throughout the school,
its net reaching the soccer field and tree.
The old man began descending the strand of grey.
As he walked farther and farther away,
passing the street where she once had lived,
passing the multi-colored, blinking score
of PC rooms, singing rooms, and many a store,
habitual thoughts coalesced, clustered again;
he was back with his familiar self again,
the one he knew well for over fifteen years...
The indelible mark not made in his field,
the conferences imagined became the themes,
vibrant ones once again of unrealized dreams.
Still, he was well off, had been served plates enough
of recognition, respect and esteem.
And he was happy to see his brother again -
after more than ten years seeing him again -
happy to help, try to help a brother pull through
whose circumstances bore a darker hue.
Hongseong is a county in South Korea. "Chuseok" is the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving.
Searching Sep 2010
Write what cannot be said
Feel the sting and exhale
Out with the truth
That you said you don't need me
When I want to be your shoulder
Before you beg the barstool for support
Sent spiraling into a breakdown...
I'd risk losing everything else
To understand this universe
That forms your turmoils,
Eccentricities, and all.
Even without sunshine to  delight in,
I'd take in your darkness without blinking.
So don't lie when you need me most
Because I'd want you to catch me
When I'm standing on the edge
Copyright © 2010 Searching. All Rights Reserved.
Sam Ciel Dec 2015
Silence is a song I know all the words to
And I will read your eyes like an open book
A single glance is all it took
To know you were in pain.
I now call you my brother.
This is due to two parts you
And two parts me
We share this same animosity
Where in our eyes there's sorrow and loss
And as our tears drip down and water the moss
Keeping us pinned as the world moves forward
We pray to god for some misdirection
Any rejection of our inner reflection
So at least that way it wouldn't be so bad.

Silence is a song you know all the words to,
And as I saw you smile that guise of a grin
It filled me with this disgusting chagrin
That I wasn't alone in my misery
The truth is, I loved the company
And I'd moan and whine and grovel and complain
But having someone helped the pain
To fade.

And though I've sung it for who knows how long, I'm done with silence's solitary song.

In the absence of time, I created space
Words from my mind to my fingers to the page
Emotions burst forth in a crescendo of rage
And I'd cry and I'd scream and I'd laugh and I'd toy
With the thoughts in my head and the fears in my mind
The toils and turmoils all bouncing in time
To this desolate orchestra I play with no help
Conducted by the faults I saw in myself.

In the absence of light, I found this void
This space without time where I tried to avoid
The feelings repressed underneath the sun's rays
Compounded and bolstered, god knows how many days
I'd ended with smiles, to come home in tears
I'd gone from crying in laughter, to facing my fears.

But there's another song  I see in your eyes
Hear in your voice,
Louder than the lies that echo inside as we're falling asleep
Each one a wolf we counted as a sheep.
And though we share this animosity
I look in the mirror and the thing I didn't see
Was a friend in sight. But... again, I was wrong.

Silence is a song I read on your lips
And as your smile slowly slips
I pray that you'll open with deafening sound
Send fault lines through the silence around
Chasms deepened with every note
A cacophonous joy from both our throats
A sudden duet like some Disney dream
A resplendent note piercing the  seams
Of the absence of noise
And the presence of fear
And amidst the chaos
I can finally hear
Your voice.

Silence is a song I know you sing.
Humming quietly as you think
You're alone.
But you're wrong, too.

Each outburst adds to the melody
So every person should sing with glee
Louder than the pursuing chorus
Sing so loud they can't ignore us
Silence is a song the world knows well
But it's our turn now so let's raise hell
And raise our voices to the heavens above
Fill the deafening silence with words of love
And as the walls around us begin to crumble
Slowly we'll begin to stumble
Free from this prison of our own minds
No longer fear what lies behind
Look all around and be at peace
For the truth will set us free.

Silence is a song that damages the soul
And only through noise can our lives be whole
The things we don't say never get said
The things we don't hear will never be read
In the eyes of another singing the song
Because without words they can't sing along
So make your own words, and play the notes wrong
Throw a cog in the workings of sweet siren song
Acknowledge the light and let others in
You've got the new lyrics already within;

Hope is a song we all know the words to.
Silence is a song that damages the soul.
Less structured or organized than the majority of my work.
A few messages melded into one.
Keep writing,
-Sam Ciel
Kenneth Fox Oct 2011
a brown cardboard home
underneath a busy bridge
I hear the passing by of tied men and pumped feet
popping against the rough cement
the whirl of the wind curling in the arch of an underway
cuts the air through my ragged clothes
not a car zooms by these lonely days and nights
I am safe but I am not happy nor sad
I do not feel shame and I am not proud
the smell of the gutter spill from the city above
I take a liking in its never changing smell
only the river waves sing me to sleep
I veer out into the foggy streets
Not an eye sets its stare upon me
Only those curious enough to drop a bill or two into my water cup
that I hold out to the sky when it starts to rain
the river's poison I've seen a man die in it
the river runs wild I lost my tattered shoes to it
been starving for weeks
hoping that the trash man drives by soon
he'll drop some litter and I'll be rummaging
my stomach will hurt for days but I am satisfied
my body keeps running
and here in this brown cardboard home
I never gave to the ideas of
ambition or dreams.
I slept and I awake
I don't feel and I'm undead.
I'm torn but I piece myself together
I never understood why but why I feared that this might end
and someone might take me
and put me somewhere new
some place where I'm shaven and cleaned to the teeth
fingernails and toes
given new itchy clothes
and a shiny pair of shoes
I'll be looked to improvement,
pressure to make progress
progress to make good change
stress to bottle my mind full of senseless thoughts
to **** for peace
to work for paper
to follow rules the lawmakers do not follow
to dream but never achieve
I think I will go back to my little cheap motel,
the brown cardboard love,
the home made from less than a single tree
and I will be merry
to know I don't need those toils
I'll spend my day worse than dirt,
soiling my life free of turmoils.
Gregory Dun Aer Mar 2017
The light inside is broken but I'm still working
the moments of hurting seems to come and go
like a tide built from an undertow of anguish.
I let anger be my language and the bandage
only manages to grow in size.
In retrospect I should have expected less
I'm blessed that I found this sort of emotion
in an ocean of human sensation, I've taken
enough of what is to be learned.
Bearing another day felt almost impossible
as colossal losses shall feel and in tragedy
happening I found something else I want
a haunted thought that maybe I'm okay,
maybe just the slight; I am okay.
I would have been more okay in your arms,
but I am convincing myself that I am okay,
and like a torrent of despair, you shared
heartache into my soul.

The heart inside is broken, but I'm still working;
I remind myself it doesn't worsen
but in moments, I'm fervently certain I'm wrong.

I'll wait for tomorrow, and the day after;
til laugh seeps my soul, for then I will know
that the glowing light I've been expecting;
will be switched back on.

I will wait till I can learn to love again,
next time it won't be in the arms of pretence.
I will love her as I love wielding a pen
and fighting my inner turmoils.
I will love her as though she is my world
a world unknown to me before.
I will love her like a crimson moon
overlooking the riverside.
I will love her as I have loved you
but only more.
I will love her with complete radiance,
and build on my patience, for her.
I will love her like the complex things in life,
meant to be understood and studied.
I will love her as if we shall perish in waters;
and with a breath, I will lift her life like a balloon,
and shall that be the last kiss we ever share;
I will bear the pain of letting her know-
I have only ever held her in my heart.

I will love her as I will adore roses, not to wilt
but to instil the most of joy as I could.
I would love her as if she was a gem in my life,
unknown to opened eyes that she is sparkling.
I know I will love her,
and that is a promise of honest care
that shares paths with the joyous moments.
I know I will love her, because I know
she will love me too.

— The End —